


Relations

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blackfish is Stiles's father, Catelyn needs a boot to the teeth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not going to stop your son from associating with him?!” his niece sounded almost livid, as if she were trying to hide it, but was failing.</p><p>“Why would I? Stiles is old enough to make his own choices, that includes who his friends are,” he replies with a sigh, turning to met her eyes only once to see that his answer hadn’t changed her demeanor, but instead made it worse. </p><p>“You ‘know’ what they are doing behind our backs, don’t you?” she seethed. He knew, he knew very well what they were doing.</p><p>-----<br/>Prompt: Jon/Stiles pairing where Stiles would be the beloved son of Blackfish and thus even more reason for Catlin to hate Jon because he is despoiling the son of her uncle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gerdda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerdda/gifts).



The old man watched with a smile on his face as his beloved only son sparred happily, a wide grin spreading with each swing of his blade. He was playing, having fun, a feeling the boy hadn’t felt in a long time since the death of his mother. It hadn’t surprised him at all that it was the basterd son of Eddard that made him smile.

He’d had a feeling long before Stiles met Jon that they’d get along instantly. His son was loud, very active and never shut his mouth, while the other was the opposite. Snow was closed off, quiet, and distant. He’d lectured Catelyn many times that she should ease up on him, at least let him speak and mess around with his half brothers and sisters.

Brynden had been happy when he brought his son to Winterfell. Stiles had instantly locked onto Snow and followed him around, gradually forcing him from his shell. They became acquaintances and then became friends in the time they’d been there.

He winced slightly as he saw his son fall back and land on his behind, lying back into the snowy dirt with Jon’s blade aimed at his chest. His boy only laughed and slowly sat up, unwisely knocking the tip of the sword away with his gloved hand. He’d admit that his son was reckless and an idiot at times, but he made up for that with his intelligence, speed, planning and coordination in battle, he was a different person when he fought seriously. He was a reckless child one minute and then a mature sword wielding warrior the next. It made him feel proud.

“You’re not going to stop your son from associating with him?!” his niece sounded almost livid, as if she were trying to hide it, but was failing.

“Why would I? Stiles is old enough to make his own choices, that includes who his friends are,” he replies with a sigh, turning to met her eyes only once to see that his answer hadn’t changed her demeanour, but instead made it worse.

“You ‘know’ what they are doing behind our backs, don’t you?” she seethed. He knew, he knew very well what they were doing and he’d stop them before it got out of hand, but they were experimenting. It was healthy and that was how he was raised.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he frowned back at the woman.

“Then why not stop them?” she whispered with a hiss. He knew she wanted the Snow gone and being with his son would slow that process of the boy going to the wall, but he wouldn’t stop it unless it affected any of them. His son was happy, extremely happy and he wanted him to stay like that.

“If you do anything to ruin their friendship, you’ll have me to deal with. My son is happy, and as long as he’s happy, I am,” he warned and headed inside, hearing the clashing of swords again from his son and Snow and the distinct sound of angry heals following behind him.

\--------------------

“Can I ask you something?” Jon swung his sword, Stiles feeling the vibrations running through his own blade as it made contact.

“You just did,” he smiled and swiped, the slightly older boy evading easily.

“Stiles, why did you decide to become friends with me?” he faltered in his swing and stance at the question, stepping back with a slight frown on his face. He lowered his sword and stepped closer to him.

“You’ve got a low self-esteem,” he muttered. “I’m with you because I like you. I feel more connected to you than any of the others. I enjoy our time together and I enjoy your company,” he smiled and then thought for a few seconds. “If you’re worried about Catlin, you don’t need to. I can handle my cousin, and if I can’t my father can,” he grinned wider and quickly swung his sword, Jon barely having time to notice and block.

“I enjoy our time as well, I don’t often win ‘every’ sparring match against Robb and Greyjoy,” he teased and Stiles gave a look of incredulousness at the comment. He swung harder.

“I’m not ‘that’ bad!” he blocked and dodged Snow’s attacks and side stepped.

“Yes, you are!” he taunted and got closer to the other boy, their attacks getting narrower.

“No I’m not!” he whined and stepped back, a smile still spread over his face. He knew what Jon was doing. When he knew they were alone he’d get closer and closer until Stiles pressed back against once of the strong, wooden fences and then he’d kiss him, and if it were night he’d be bold and... Well... He’d get incredibly bold and they’d make a mess.

“I admit that you ‘do’ make up for it in one way...” he trailed off and he felt his lower back come into contact with the fencing of the sparring arena.

“How?” he asked, already knowing the answer by the fact that Jon leaned closer to him, holding his sword low against Stiles’s. He slightly tilted his head and felt the half-Stark ghost his lips over his own.

“You give incredible kisses,” he breathily chuckled and connected their mouths. Stiles hummed lightly and pressed closer, his eyes slowly closing at the feel of the warm, moist skin on his. He felt a gloved hand rest on his cheek, the thumb running over his cheekbone.

“My lips aren’t just good for kissing,” he smiled and opened his eyes halfway, staring into slightly distracted ones. “They’re good for sucking too,” he hinted and gently reached his free hand down to gently grope Snow’s gradually growing erection, nearly laughing at the faint flush in Jon’s face at his words. He smiled and blushed. He loved the way he instantly went shy just from sex talk. Jon was incredibly innocent when he mentioned any words relating to sex, even if it had nothing to do with their relationship.

“The tower?” he panted lightly and gripped Stiles hip. He was hinting openly and gently tugged on his belt.

“Lead the way,” he smiled and pushed away from the fencing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
